Who's that girl?

It is that statement: I can never be that girl, can I?

After a series of failed experiments, I finally decided to take a leave from Cupid's Arena. It won't be permanent, of course. It is just that... It is not for me. Not now, at least.

As of this writing, I am in the process of healing from some events that I had no control whatsoever. I am in the process of accepting to myself that I just can never be that girl. I mean, I can't be the girl whom guys want as a girlfriend. I am far from being feminine. I speak, think, and act like a guy most of the time. I am not ultimately mushy over things. I am not into confrontation nor do I want to talk things over. I don't know, it's just that I am not comfortable talking about how I feel. I get awkward whenever that happens and I usually end up stuttering, trying to explain things which in return screws up everything. So, I just choose to shut up. I actually could go on and on with this, giving reasons as why I can never be that kind of girl, but I might end up describing someone I am not, so... Yeah. Whatever.

Though I can never be that girl for that certain person, I know I am someone's dream and reality (Yuck, spoken like a true romantic and conceited person.) Time will come when I will be able to hold someone's hand without cringing. Time will come when I will be able to speak of my emotions without even stuttering. It will definitely come sooner or later. But for now, I'll just live my ink All that and more, because honestly? I am all that and more.

The Great Perhaps

I failed my part of the bargain.

Do I feel remorse? No. Do I feel regret? No. But there's just one thing in my mind: The Great Perhaps. It is not regret that provokes this kind of question. No, not regret at all. It is more of human nature that gives me this kind of idea. What if I did my part of the bargain? What if I did what I was supposed to do? What if I did things differently? What if, will everything be different?

No, of course not. Everything will still be the same. I will still think of the The Great Perhaps, mainly because I have done things differently. And it's normal. It's human nature to want something we don't have. Why? Because we love the thrill. We love the chase. We love the challenge it poses to our humanity. Well, at least for me.

I like chasing something I can never have. I like the feeling of uncertainty, of whether I can really have it or not. It makes me feel as if there's still hope in humanity. It makes me think that maybe, just maybe, there's still more to life for me. It makes me feel as though I am made for something, that I could be someone else. It makes me feel alive even for a while. But most of the time, it kills me.

AAAAAAHHHH! THE GREAT PERHAAAA *some text missing*

Material Girl

October is not exactly my month.

On the first day of this month, I spent more than I could save for a phone that's not really universal. I should have given more faith in my philosophy ("Never spend on the first day of the month.") than in impulses. I should have known better than spending on the first day of a month. Now, I must suffer the consequences of going against my principle: I am broke.

Well, not exactly. I recuperated after two weeks. Thanks to my meager salary as an employee. Panic-stricken by the recent financial crash down, I planned everything ahead as I got my paycheck. I vowed not to spend on things that I don't really need. I paid the bills including my sister's Field Trip fee (yeah, I have to include that!) I promised to budget my allowance for two weeks. In short, I resurrected my savings. Only for two days.

Things got a little rough when I craved for french fries at McDonalds after I paid the bills. So I, together with my mom, headed out to the nearest Mcdo and ate a quater pounder and a cheeseburger. So much for the hungry tummies, I guess.

With my tummy full of junk food, I had the energy to roam around the mall and to do window shopping (it was the least that I can do since I intend to cut my expenses this time). Little did I know that it is not a great idea as I saw this pair of shoes.

It was love at first sight. I do not know how that happened, but yes. I fell in love with the shoes and thought I could do the tap dance with it. I think like an Irish, you know. Once upon a time, I did not understand why girls love shoes. But seeing this pair of shoes, I got the answer. In short, I bought the shoes. But my mom coaxed me into buying a gray bag to pair with my new shoes.

I can easily be convinced, that's why I ended up buying a gray bag...and a black one, too. And now I am broke. I need to save up again. Damned decision making skills. I just remembered that I still have a Batangas get-away to save up for. Now, I am screwed. So much for reading a lot of news regarding Finance and Savings. I totally banged up my savings. This is why I hate going to the malls. It is either I end up lusting over things that I do not need or I end up being broke.

Note to self: No to impulsive buying! (Now playing: Material Girl)

Fast Forward

The funny thing about high school batchmates is that they never turn out to be what you expected them to be.

I was digging some old stuff from my high school days and I saw our yearbook. It was something that I haven't seen since forever, so I tried flipping through it, hoping that I would get some inspiration from what I used to be back then. Little did I know that it was the worst move I could ever muster.

I saw the page where my hideous picture was plastered. My hair was dead. It looked like a brush, a steel brush. My gums and teeth were big enough for two people. And my nose was pretty much non-existent. In short, I looked gruesome. Oh shit. I was a total loser back in high school (make that until college!) I was an invisible student. Not a geek, not a nerd, just a loser. I was (still am) socially awkward so to speak. I don't mingle much and I don't make friends (Okay, LOL for that.) So yeah, given that it was the first page that I saw, I immediately turned over to a random page.

Guess what I saw? Some high school batchmates who are currently having the time of their lives. It was funny to think of them that way, because they were far from what they used to be. Some of them were the ones who were least likely to get through the harsh claws of reality, but when I looked at them now, they actually made it with flying colors. Some of them went to Law and Medical school. Those people who did not talk much back then are the ones prospering right now. It was indeed the revenge of the nerds in the end.

Some of them definitely have a good future ahead. They are making the best of their choices and decisions, while here I am ogling on the past that I never can undo. While they get the taste of sweet life, I am stuck in a place called Mediocrity. I'd like to think of myself as late bloomer of some sort, but reality depresses me. I can't seem to get out of this phase. I am making myself believe that this is just a phase in my life. That this, too, shall pass.

I can dream, can't I?

Nowhere Girl

I was young, naive, and stupid. I made mistakes I could never undo. I told tales of lies. I sought confirmation. I was young and I was lost. I was never part of anything. I was just a mere entity floating endlessly through the unfathomable depth of life.

So much of a dramatic introduction, I might as well drop it now.

How I spent most of my college life--broke, drunk, and elated. I miss those days when all I can think about was having fun. I miss my days as a juvenile delinquent. I hung around with my friends, cut my classes, missed my classes, and went to class a little drunk and zombie-like most of the time. I had the typical college life, so to speak. And yes, I miss my college life A LOT.

For that, I hold truism in the saying that, "There's a time for everything. It is called college." I do not know who said that, but whoever s/he is CHEERS!

Rolling Luck.

High hopes. Good vibes. Let the good time roll.

Make or break moment for me next Wednesday. I hope that the results and Lady Luck will be good to me. No, I still don't want to spill the details. I'll just dissect it once it is sure. Please. I do not want to be jinxed.

Good vibes! Good vibes! I hope my mom would not ruin it for me. I really want to work outside the boundaries of our home and to explore my potentials as an individual. I want to meet new people (though that is scary at the same time), make new friends, and learn new things I want to have a personal growth.

I am crossing my fingers for next Wednesday's events. Will it change the course of my life? Well, I really hope so. Wednesday. Wednesday. Wednesday.

Basketball and Beer

Unemotional and objective. That's me.

I admit that I am an objective person. I am not very emotional (or at least I am not very vocal with my hang ups). I am not a whiny person, though I can be at times (self-serving bias speaking). I think, I have been to a lot of emotional upheavals before that I could attest for myself that I am as emotional as anymore can be. I have been to several heartbreaks that I could say that I can feel such. I have been to a number of beginnings and endings that I know how I heart shattering it feels.

I can feel. Though I hate to admit it, I am emotional, too. I get upset, sad, and heartbroken like everyone else. I am not totally devoid of emotions. Really. I get hurt sometimes (but I do not usually admit it). I have had my heart broken twice, actually. I have been hurt. I have been screwed up by a couple of people. And whether you believe it or not, I cried for those moments, for the love-found-love-lost moments that I had. I cried so many nights like any hormonal girls do over a failed relationship. I may not have said it all, but I tried to. At least. I am not just that comfortable talking about feelings and emotions (much more if these things concerned me.) It might be because of the fact that I see such things as liability and weakness. And maybe that's the thing with me. I just cannot deal with my personal bullshits because I see them as a fucked up excuse to be weak and defenseless.

Maybe I am too macho for my own sake, but that's just me being me. Or maybe that's just me having a bout with machismo and beer.

Beer Influence Speaking

Once in a blue moon.

I am never physically attractive when I was still in high school and/or in college. I am far from it. I usually get "the shrug" from people/guys signalling that I am not an interesting person to know. I get that, and I know it. In fact, I accept it long before I have known that I am not that attractive to the opposite sex. I have learned to acknowledge the fact that I am not really visually enticing. I mean, I have a common face with a typical chinita eyes and morena skin. I am very (South East) Asian, so to speak. I am not mestiza. And I am too macho for my own good.

I admit, I am not used to having guys like me (or having them notice me!). Believe me. Though I have an overpowering self-confidence, I am not really that open to the idea that guys might like/notice me in the She's-pretty-slash-likable-girl/boy/it sense.

I am truly one of the boys, really. I remember my friend telling me that I think and act like a boy. I believe her actually. I am gender insensitive (not that I am not aware of Gender Sensitivity), I admit that I sometimes go/agree with the guys with their some preconceived notions about girls. I am a hypocrite, I know (having been able to proclaimed myself to be slightly feminist LOLJK). I think like a guy in the sense that I do not want to leak any emotional hang ups to people (even my friends, no not my closest friends). I think like a guy because I feel that women should not give it all. (Yes! I am conservative when it comes to relationships). I think that men should be the one pursuing women. You know, the likes. I think like boys because I am simply machismo. I fail my gender, I am sorry. I act like a guy because I like guy things (not that I am bisexual or lesbian like everyone thinks so), because I see these things devoid of emotion but filled with passion. I am emotional, but I fail to let out what I actually feel. I am too objective for my own good (again!). I do not know how that happened. Do not ask me.

So you see. It is once in a blue moon event in my life to know that there are (of course!) some guys who think I am pretty (I am sorry, I am insecure with my physically characteristics). I am comfortable with myself (I like the way I am), but I am not used to the inevitable event that somebody might like me physically. Seriously. I do not think that I am that noticeable (even with a beer on my right hand). SO DO NOT MAKE ME A BALOT!

I do not know if this made any sense, but I know that if you know where this is coming from (that is, if you are my friend...) you will surely know this thing. Sorry. I fail as an object of attraction (having to brag this and shit). I guess, I had too much beer.

Do you think I am physically attractive or cute? Yes, I am fishing for a compliment here! LOLJK. And no, do not ask me, because I know that I am cute and I have "the personality" (LOL for that!). Seriously. What do you think? (And no, do not give me the you-are-beautiful-minus-the-actions-and-the-way-you-speak line. I know that already.

What happens when it rains?

The day started out early for me today.

I was awaken by the sudden gash of wind touching my feet and by the sound of heavy raindrops on our roof. I smiled, it was raining at last. After long days of dessert-like heat, it was raining. I got up, and did the "morning routine."

I got my book. I have been putting it aside for the past weeks, but now that the weather was good for reading, I won't neglect my literary duties. I sat on my favorite yellow chair near the window and opened the book on page 257. I started reading, but it was not long after I finished page 258 that I found myself looking out the window. I watched the raindrops, they did not mean anything, but they triggered something in me: nostalgia. I let my mind wander to a place I so long to see again.

It was a rainy day, 17th of June, 2006. It was the first day of my college years. I was an awkward 16 year old girl then (and still an awkward person now). I can still remember what I felt then: a mixture of excitement, fear, and hope. The usual feeling of any freshman students. I remember how silent I was that time. I did not commit much to any conversations then. I was like a monosyllabic robot consumed by awe and anxiety. I could not remember the details that happened that day. But there was one thing that I remembered well. I asked myself, "Will I be able to graduate on time?" I had only one goal then: to graduate on time (and just move on).

Looking back, I had not known better. I was innocent and ignorant. Oh how I wish to go back to college days and just waste my youth with vices. Everything was simple. Just like high school without the drama and shit.

I was taken back to reality when the rain touched my face. All was just a memory of yesterday. Oh how I wish.

Religion: __________

A lot of application forms have this portion: Religion: ____________.

Most often than not, I leave them blank. It is not because I am an atheist or an agnostic or simply a godless wanderer, but it is because I think religion has its depth that no one could ever categorize. Be it a Catholic, a Protestant, a Muslim, or a Seventh Day Adventist, there's not much difference I think.

I am born a Catholic. I always say that my parents are both Catholic, so that makes me a Catholic as well (and basically because I am christened in a Catholic Church). I used to go to church until my fourth year in high school. I stopped going to church, and I started reading the Bible (Yes, I read the Bible). And everything became different.

I started discerning things. I listened closely to what the religious people preached about god and the universe. There I found fault in their understanding of the Bible and of their religion. I found that they took it according to their own beck. Some took the meaning of the Bible in a literal way, which I find to be offensive since I believe that no book or any literary work should be taken lightly. There must be some science that could explain the Bible. There must be some science to explain god. There must be. There will be...in time.

And as for my religion? I want it to remain a blank.

Pen and Paper

I only know one thing: I am too young to be tired.

Lately, I have been feeling tired and depressed. I just feel hormonal. I just want to be able to write again. I don't know. I keep on looking for something, like an inspiration. I need it.

For the past four years, I have not been able to produce any decent creative output. I have failed myself. I have failed my potentials. I know it. But every time I try to write something sensible (not like this blog-slash-rant), I get a mental block (I beg not to use a writer's block). I cannot sustain and give justice to a good idea I have in mind. The inspiration seems to be flickering on and off in my head. I cannot manipulate the words and the elements like I used to.

This is largely my fault. I have succumbed to the notion that I cannot get something out of being a writer. As a result, I have neglected my writing stints just to give way to a more sensible occupation. I guess I have neglected it too much for so long that I cannot remember how I used to get away with words. I have succumbed to mediocrity... Now I just feel tired and depressed. Being unable to write something creative is making me sad.

I wish I knew how to end this stagnation.

Body Type Galore

I'm big, okay? I get it. You don't have to rub it in. I was born this way. My genes can attest to that. You can look at how tall my mom and my dad are. I am not very fat, but I am not thin either. But I get it, I am malaking bulas. So please, can you stop fucking up my nerves and quit repeating it?

Some people are just so insensitive that they keep on telling me how big I am. Don't they know that sometimes (when I am hormonal and it's 35.9 Degrees inside the house) I can get cranky and that I might take their snide comments personally? Don't they know that when the temperature is high, people are prone to aggressive tendencies and are easily irritated? Crap. I am big. I am malaking bulas. But I am not a whale. I am just born to be an endomorph. I already accepted that fact. I love my body, that's why I could not see why people keep on telling me 'Uy, lalo kang lumalaki ah.'

Seriously, people in our neighborhood should be more sensitive with what they say, because they do not even have a killer body to begin with. I just don't understand why they keep picking on me whenever they see me. I am not even an obese. And I think that I only have a little fat to burn if I wanted to. I love my body, but I am just pissed off at people who keep criticizing my big -boned structured. WTH.

10 Reasons Why I Don't Date

Sleep has been eluding me for past weeks. I have a screwed up sleeping pattern as I usually do every vacation. But last night, I went to bed four hours earlier than my usual bedtime to pacify my mom who just wouldn't stop nagging about the benefits of a good night sleep. As I felt the bed on my back, I knew that sleep would be once again elusive. Hence, the 10-reasons-blog-entry.

1. I am awkward towards the opposite sex.
2. My communication skills suck.
3. I have the tendency to be weird. Uh, I am weird
4. I am not comfortable with dating shit.
5. Dating is... boring?
6. Dating is not my forte.
7. I have no idea what dating means. (Yeah, remind me of my age)
8. Uh... What else?
9. ...
10. I just don't date.

Okay, these are just pure bullshit. I just want to grow old alone. I don't want to know people. LOL. Whatever.

Changes

Fifteen years can do wonders.

I looked at some old pictures my mom stored for memorabilia. I saw a younger version of me. A fairer and chubbier Angel. She was charming and cute, but a little bit anti-social. She let her mom cut her hair, that was why she had an apple cut with a full bangs which made her looked like a siopao. Her teeth were one seat apart because she liked pulling off her teeth. She had chinita eyes and unibrow. I smiled at my younger self. One would not believe that I was that kid.

Fifteen years later, that kid turned out to be morena and tall. She was not charming anymore, she was more of intimidating now. But that kid remained to be anti-social. She did not let her mom cut her hair anymore, instead she let her hair long. Instead of looking like a siopao, she ended up looking like a zombie. Her teeth were not one seat apart, at least not anymore. She maintained having a decent brows, but she still had chinita eyes.

Much had changed for the past years, but she still remained young at heart.